Home visits today.
First visit was a decrepit black woman, late 40s, who has been homeless for most of the time I managed her case. Long ago, she told me about a disabled vet she met at the truck stop she was staying at, known only by a nickname. Well, it turns out he got his disability case approved, got himself a modest apartment, and took my client in. None too soon. Her kid turned eighteen and graduated high school, so she's no longer eligible for cash aid come July. She's finally got herself a walker, a roof, and the aid of a friend in her hour of need.
Second visit I was really looking forward to. My client, black male in his 20s, is fresh out of jail. Through some abberation of the justice system, my client's charges were dropped despite being caught with drugs a gun and attempting to evade his arrest (judging by the fresh scars, they fucked his ass up). I allayed any fears about his cash case. He was out of the house less than thirty days, and SNAP and TANF will come through on the first. "Now that aside, what the hell, man?" He said he was hurting for money. He got himself some weed, some protection, "and started dealing somewhere maybe I shouldn't have." He was out dealing with his friend when someone claiming Crip stepped to him. My client, being the upstanding citizen he is, tried to tell said Crip that he doesn't bang, but his homie was set trippin, and words were exchanged. When Crip started poppin off at the mouth, my client understandably had to pull his piece. Clearly, there was no way to avoid the situation. This brandishing resulted in a 911 call. I stressed to my client that he is a lucky motherfucker; don't blow it again.
Third visit was some layabout, white male, mid 20s, whose wife was lucky enough to get a fulltime job off of her little medical certification (coding? Medical assistant? I forget). Their house is always dark. He's got swords and knives everywhere, but he keeps them out of reach of the kids. He mentioned vaguely that he has a firearm or firearms which kind of troubles me. He's been going to therapy for awhile for bipolar, and he's prone to outbursts of anger and violence, but he's somehow managed to avoid commitals, charges, or anything else that would cause him to fail a NICS check. He's more or less stable right now. Time to get his ass to work too.
Fourth visit, white female in her 30s. She's obese. The methadone has really been fucking with her. The agency running her housing program is moving her out of her shitty apartment. Given her history, they don't want her living in an area with high drug activity. Good luck, fuckers. She's still in Vegas. She fell off the wagon recently; she scored some Loritabs. It's always two steps forward, one step back with this one, but she's much better than when I first met her, caring for an opiate dependent infant with CPS elbow deep in her shit. The kid, now fourteen months, looks healthy, fed, and attentive. Some delay with standing and walking though. Hope she didn't fuck him up too much in utero.
Fifth visit, another druggie white female in her 30s choking on the long dick of child protective services. She got a job. It isn't ideal; she's got an addictive personality, and now she works at a casino, but we'll take what we can get. I get to see her two year old twins for the first time now that she's got them back from foster care. They spent the visit crying at each other and us because they weren't the center of their mother's attention for two god damn minutes.
Sixth visit, black female, early thirties, just had twins a couple months ago. She lives in gang land. Sitting in my car out front for a minute, I could see a black SUV, tinted windows, red rims, blasting: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=24klVX9rdpk
This was oddly in contrast to the 18th street hit up in front of my client's house. Her house must've been very nice fifty years ago before the security screen and bars were bolted onto the door and windows. Client and her three kids were sacked out in what was once a spacious entertainment room featuring a full bar. My client found full time work at a call center. I'll set her up with a voucher for work clothes and whatever else she might need. I wish her luck.
Seventh, very nice two story home in a gated community. My client, a black nineteen year old girl, is an adult and considered a seperate household from her mother for eligibility purposes and so qualifies for benefits despite the nice digs. Although, I can't tell if her mother is actually doing well or is staying in the house on a section 8 voucher as often happens (Owners of large, flashy "investment properties" in Vegas are having a hard time selling them, so they often lease to section 8 renters so that they can get something out of them in the meantime). My client is doing online school to complete her diploma. She is utterly fucking failing. Her grades are abysmall. Distance education is not for most students.
Final visit was to a client that recently moved, hispanic female, early twenties. There were a lot of people out front of their units in her large, dilapidated apartment complex. It's quite uncommon to see people out and about when the weather is 106 degrees. Given the appearance and age of those posted up outside, and the looks I got driving a car with state plates, I suspect drug activity. I parked next to a Chevy Suburban circa 1985 with old school 13" wire rims and impressive hydraulics. My client is going to a for-profit college (which I advised against) taking classes to be a medical assistant (the market is saturated with them).
It was a full day.